


Ghosts That We Knew

by KipRussel



Series: Dial a Hitman [3]
Category: Hitman (Video Games)
Genre: (Diana is largely mentioned and alluded to), 47 is emotional but he has a hard time admitting that, Angst, Gen, Missing Scene, but i WROTE IT!!, character exploration, so apologies if he's a smidge out of character, this took far longer than intended because writing 47 dialogue is surprisingly daunting, two brothers fumble through some stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-10-17 20:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20627231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KipRussel/pseuds/KipRussel
Summary: 47 had always known the memory of his past was still there. It was never fully gone. He could never grasp it-- like a shadow you see in the corner of your eye and turn only to find it gone, his memories slipped through his fingers anytime he tried to reach them. Sometimes sounds, smells, sights, certain words--  they caused an itch that almost haunted him.This is your gift. Your gift, and your curse. Touching lives only by ending them.





	Ghosts That We Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Set before and during the final cutscene segment of "Gifts and Curses" in game-- as the group finds themselves on the sea headed for Sgáil.

47 had always known the memory of his past was still there. It was never fully gone. He could never grasp it-- like a shadow you see in the corner of your eye and turn only to find it gone, his memories slipped through his fingers anytime he tried to reach them. Sometimes sounds, smells, sights, certain words-- they caused an itch that almost haunted him. 

His job was easier when he ignored it. His job was easier when he believed all the answers and questions died with Ort-Meyer. It was easier to not risk the chance of emotional involvement, of reminiscing, of remembering. After all, he had no emotions. That’s what everyone had said. That’s what he had always said. It was easier to believe that. He did believe that. Didn’t he? He ignored the itch. 

The itch never left.

The picture of himself as a boy made him face the questions. In Romania, they grew louder. 

As he pushed forward through the dilapidated building, eyes darting from doorway to doorway, it felt… familiar. But he had no time to face ghosts of the past when his job was to catch a ghost. Lucas Grey was here. His job was nearly done. He wouldn’t fail.

And then, it was different. The shadows of his past were clear.

His questions were answered-- he knew who he was.

He knew he was home.

He knew what he was going to do.

* * *

Remembering had been both sudden and slow. There were years of memories to uncover and find. The antidote from Ether hadn’t uncovered them all-- it simply unlocked the door. It was up to 47 to move forward and unearth each memory. 

Lucas had been more than helpful. He was worried about his brother. About what it would be like, to relive it all. He knew how his own past haunted him, and now that 47 was back after all this time, he wanted to be there for him. Make up for lost years. Remembering their past while also getting to know each other again. 

It was… odd, for 47, to say the least. He knew and trusted his brother deeply, he was familiar and close-- yet he was so distant and unknown and unfamiliar. Simultaneous. A very different situation to navigate. There weren’t many people on this Earth he felt comfortable being open with, and despite the strange circumstances, Lucas was still one of them. 47 was not one to… _ converse _, but he didn’t need to. There was something unspoken between them, the way they understood each other. Very few could do that.

They reminiscenced, in an odd way, in those two months preparing for their mission on Sgáil. 47 would confirm the fuzzy details of a memory with him, while Lucas would bring up their other times together to see if 47 had remembered. 

It was… nice. In the midst of the quiet stress of planning, researching, organizing, and settling the weight of their plans, they could always find each other, to share a comfortable silence. To finally have someone who understood their shared past. 

It was how Lucas found himself pulling up a chair to sit across from his brother on the lower deck of the ship, after making a sweep to make sure everything was running correctly, all crew members adhering to their deal. 47 worked in silence, patiently taking apart his pistols, focused, until he caught Lucas’ eye and set them down. The silence was heavy with hesitation before 47 cut through it. 

“I’m having a hard time remembering some details.” Lucas nodded, waiting for his brother to continue. “A hit we did together. A car bomb. The late 80s. Early 90s. It’s… unclear.”

Lucas leaned back a little, eyes drifting to the ceiling. “A car bomb… 1980s… was it England? Surrey, England?”

47 mulled it over a moment. “That sounds right.”

“I remember that. It was in a cemetery, of all places.”

“Poetic justice?” 47 asked, a hint of a smirk in his voice. Lucas grimaced.

“You remember me saying that, I see,” Lucas cringed a bit, thinking back to his younger self. He sat back up, resting his elbows on the table. “No. This wasn’t justice. It was a Providence ordered hit.”

47 nodded slowly. Was anything they ever did justice, he wondered? He reached for one of his silverballers, putting it back together.

“I can’t remember who for. A company of some sort. Something to remove people they deemed problems, as normal,” Lucas continued, watching 47 pick his guns up again, piecing them back together. He dug through his memory, sorting through a childhood he’d tried to forget parts of. Tried to forget most of, really. So many hits, names, companies, organizations, corporations... 

“Blue Seed, that was it.” The name felt like a cold knife to the chest. It gripped 47 and it did not let go. Lucas continued, unaware. “A company called Blue Seed. Still around as well. Still rooted in Providence.” 47 blinked, still piecing his gun back together in a form of muscle memory. His mind was a million miles away. His mind was in Surrey, England. 1989. Where it had happened. Where he could see Diana. He hadn’t known her name yet. Burnwood. He knew that name. The Burnwood girl, standing at a grave. With two more to headstones to join it, in the future. At their hands. At his hands.

Their comfortable silence continued, but the weight on 47 did not leave. He set each silverballer on the table, and he stared. He took a deep breath and let it all settle. It wasn’t often that he felt stunned. 

“I’ve checked on most of the crew,” Lucas started, pulling 47 out of his thoughts. “Everything’s going well. They aren’t asking questions. I’ve talked to Olivia already. I’m going to check in with Diana next,” Lucas said as he pushed his seat back and stood to leave. “The contact on the island confirmed the Constant has arrived. The plan is to leave at sundown.” 

“Diana joined the business because her parents were killed,” 47 responded, voice even.

Lucas paused in the doorway, caught off guard, confusion flashing across his face. 47 looked up from the table to his brother, and watched as the penny dropped, Lucas’ face betraying his realization.

“I see. …I’ll… I’ll ask her about it.” He hesitated, giving 47 a forgiving look, hurt more than evident, then turned to leave. 47 was alone. Trying to sort his emotions. Trying to settle the weight. Of two lives. Two deaths. 

_ “Your gift and your curse.” _

His ally. His confidant. His closest friend. Nothing in his life seemed to escape the shadow of the institute. All this time, and Diana had never known. _ He _ had never known. 

Was life easier when he didn’t have to fight with his emotions? If he was honest with himself, he wrestled with them often. He just never called them what they were. 

_ (“But I like to think… no one’s untouchable.”) _

He’d been told most of his life to be emotionless. He told others he was. 

_ (“You feel it, don’t you? Unlike him, you feel it all. Everything you’ve done.” _

_ “It’s a dangerous thing… having a conscience.”) _

But he carried that weight. He held it differently than Lucas. But he carried it still. It was always there, in the back of his mind. The shadow always loomed. It seeped into him, permeated him. And he wrestled with it. He fought hard with the branding Ort-Meyer had given him. The purpose he had tried to assign him. At the church in Sicily. In Hope, South Dakota. It was always easier when he tried to ignore it.

_ “What is your purpose?” _

Ort-Meyer never considered that his favorite ‘son’ might choose a different purpose. Reject Ort-Meyer’s dream. 

He never considered that 47 may find a family. 

Or had he? The desperate attempts to stunt his emotions, to erase his memory, to rein him in. The fear that 47 would make his own decisions. Providence’s grip had tightened around him. Trying to keep him from slipping through their fingers. 

And now.

Now he carried that weight. And soon, Providence would be ready to fall at his hands. At their hands. He had a choice. He’d always had choices.

He could do it for himself. For Lucas. For Victoria. For Diana.

But first, they needed to get The Constant.

They would leave for Sgáil at sundown. 47 stood and holstered his pistols, pushed in his seat, and headed for the upper deck.

It wouldn’t be long now. And he needed to be ready.

**Author's Note:**

> this took me a lot longer than I had planned just bc of life and the struggle of writing 47 oof, but here it is!!!  
super quick shout out to some awesome people bc im a sap  
\- to cosmicaeronaut for helping me name this and stay on track and being amazing and lovely and hilarious  
\- to anilicast for kicking my butt to finish this and also writing some wonderful hitman fic  
\- to olliemander for always kicking around ideas w/ me ily!!!! your content is so great!!! youre so great!!!  
\- to alex, thank you for beta reading and helping me stay on track!!!! you're the best!!  
\- to carroways and everyone else in the little tumblr hitman squad, ilysm you rule!!!! thank you for always listening and chatting and tossing headcanons and laughing w/ me  
\- and to allan please add username for helping keep me motivated, i see your comments and i appreciate them SO MUCH youre a gift!!!  
<3!!!


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